


Always Welcome

by Ebyru



Series: And the Rain Was Upon the Earth Forty Days and Forty Nights [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, First Date, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Spoilers, this is very very fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 21:12:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebyru/pseuds/Ebyru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took five stops for everything to be right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Welcome

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to thank my betas - [rock_chick_333](http://rock-chick-333.livejournal.com/), [nicole_sill](http://nicole-sill.livejournal.com/), [verucasalt123](http://verucasalt123.livejournal.com/) & [kimberlelly](http://kimberlelly.livejournal.com/). 
> 
> *None of the stories are linked, but feel free to draw your own lines, if you like.
> 
> Lovely art by my artist [sphinx_face](http://sphinx-face.livejournal.com/)  
> (Masterpost of art can be found [here](http://sphinx-face.livejournal.com/11260.html))
> 
> ~Written for the 2012 [sassy-minibang](http://sassy-minibang.livejournal.com/) on livejournal. :)

It’s a regular key, but it means a lot to Sam. It means responsibility – the good kind, not the exasperating world-saving kind – stability, and _home_. It makes him think of the Roadhouse, of their house from before the fire, of Bobby’s place. And, if he lets his mind wander, it even reminds him of college dorms and Jessica, but with all the positive being highlighted.

It’s a good thing – _the_ best.

Sam makes a copy at a local hardware store – after being flirted with for ten minutes, only to blurt out that he’s gay (which he isn’t, not really, he just loves this one guy) – and then hurries out. He slides it onto a stainless steel key ring that he’s been keeping for a few weeks, and then pushes it into his duffel bag, next to his mostly empty wallet.

 

 

Sam looks for a suit in a store near the hardware one. He tries on jackets, crisp, white shirts, dark pants, but decides to only purchase a few of the items.

Sam shaves, showers, and then puts mousse in his hair to slick it back. He raids Dean’s cologne collection – with full permission – picking the best one, and then puts on dark socks with his dress shoes.

He takes out cufflinks Bobby used to wear – when he was pretending to be an FBI agent – and slips them onto his sleeves. They’re still very shiny, silver and spotless. They’re perfect for the navy blue jacket he bought earlier. He feels more confident with them on; appreciates the familiarity of them – having seen them a dozen times or more. And, at the same time, it makes Sam feel like he has Bobby’s blessings to go ahead with this plan.

Everything is going well so far.

Dean even gives Sam the keys to the Impala without Sam needing to ask. He knows either way Dean would have said yes – there’s a Dr. Sexy marathon on TV tonight – but knowing he has Dean’s support to go through with this as well makes it that much better.

Sam leaves feeling nervous, excited, but _so_ very ready.

 

 

Sam parks the Impala, climbs out, and stands next to it. He’s not far off now, not anymore. He takes a few (hopefully) calming breaths, smoothing out the wrinkles from his suit, and closes his eyes.

He hopes he won’t have to call Castiel for long, standing in the middle of the street…in public. Otherwise, people are going to start thinking he’s insane – which he might be, considering what he has in mind.

“Castiel, I, uh, I want to see you. Can you come around if you’re not busy?”

Sam exhales loudly, hands shoved in his pockets, worrying. That’s all he’s been able to do today.

Castiel arrives after what feels like an eternity (but is only five minutes according to Sam’s watch) looking distraught or maybe bewildered. Either way, it’s deeply related to confusion.

Castiel isn’t sure of the reason Sam’s called for him, what Sam’s intentions are, but it seems important. When he notices just how formal Sam is dressed, the fear somehow takes over his face, and he can’t hide it at all.

“I-I’m not dressed for…” Castiel makes a gesture he hopes conveys his inadequacy.

“Come on, Cas. You look good. You’re wearing a suit. I’m just bringing you to a restaurant. No reason to look so scared.” Castiel opens his mouth to protest, but Sam continues. “I already made reservations.”

 

 

The restaurant is pretty normal – especially considering all the looks they get when they step in, totally overdressed – but Dean usually picks such sketchy, sleazy places that they both feel out of place, regardless of their clean-cut suits.

It’s much less nerve-wracking once they’re seated, at least.

Castiel orders what he knows: a burger. It turns out to be a gourmet burger, made from the highest quality beef, topped with locally-grown vegetables as well as the chef’s secret sauce. The fries are hand-cut, seasoned and huge. There are a lot of orgasmic sounds being made, but Sam likes them. And not in a slutty, Dean way.

Sam orders a deluxe salad which has grilled chicken breast, homemade Italian vinaigrette, croutons made of freshly-baked baguette, and sliced mozzarella cheese. It’s not as healthy as his usual salads – or meals in general – but the taste is so outer-planetary that he can’t help himself. He refrains from making those same dirty sounds, no matter how much he wants to.

After Castiel orders his dessert – crème brulée – Sam takes Castiel’s hand gently, lacing their fingers. He wants to make his motives, his intentions, clear enough that they can avoid an awkward conversation.

Castiel tugs at his tie with his free hand, feeling abruptly self-conscious, and Sam rubs Castiel’s knuckles to console him.

“Don’t worry, you look great. You always do.”

And, to Sam, he really does. Castiel smiles softly, offering a spoonful of his dessert to Sam.

 

 

Sam pays for the meal, and then offers to give Castiel a ride in the Impala. It gets him a raised eyebrow and a classic head-tilt. Sam has kind of missed that last one.

There’s a reason for Castiel’s reaction, sure. Castiel can teleport, for one. Also, Sam hasn’t told Castiel where they’re going. But those things aside, usually you drive a person ‘home’ after a date – even Castiel must have learned that much. But Castiel’s home is in Heaven, so none of it makes sense really.

Castiel still agrees, though, content to spend some extra time with his date.

\---

After a short drive, they arrive at a nice, newly-renovated apartment complex. Castiel’s brow furrows for a bit until he notices Dean hanging out of a window on the second floor. Dean waves at them, purposely loud and over-enthusiastic. Sam chuckles, politely (and indulgently) leading Castiel out of the car with a hand on the small of his back.

“We’re on the third floor,” Sam says, still trying to keep the explanations to…zilch.

“ _We?_ ” Castiel asks, glancing over at Dean momentarily, seeing that he’s already gone back inside. Castiel’s mouth suddenly feels desert-dry.

Sam takes the key ring out of his pocket, placing it in Castiel’s palm, folding Castiel’s fingers closed around it. “ _We_.”

Castiel looks about as terrified as he did in Dean’s description of their visit to the ‘den of inequity’. Sam pets Castiel’s hands to calm him; show him it’s all right to be unprepared for this kind of decision. It must be a big deal for him since he’s only ever lived in Heaven.

“You don’t have to stay here. You don’t even need to ever sleep here or use the key. I just want you to know you’re welcome at my place, that I want to give _us_ a shot, and that _I_ want you here.” He sighs, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. “I’d just really like it if you made time to visit once in a while.”

Castiel can’t decide how to respond. He kisses Sam, carefully pushing the key into the pocket of his trench coat at the same time.

“Can I see inside first before I make my decision?” Castiel says coyly, intertwining their fingers.

Sam huffs out a laugh, feeling a flush burning the skin of his neck. Do angels _do_ innuendo? “Sure, Cas,” Sam replies, shaking his head.

“Good.” Castiel smiles. “Please lead the way, then. I will follow.” _For as long as you’d like me to._

**Author's Note:**

> Comments appreciated. :)


End file.
